Friends, Lovers, or Maybe Something in Between
by fanficsawaityou
Summary: Childhood friends to lovers trope: You were both orphans, but in each other you found home.
1. Chapter 1

**Prompt** **from Tumblr by adribug: best things about the childhood best friends/friends to lovers trope**

 **casual displays of affection**  
 **sharing a bed because "we've been doing it since we were kids"**  
 **platonic cuddling 12/10 times that a bed is shared… totally platonic…**  
 **that thing where they lay down and one person is lying perpendicular to the other with their head on the other's stomach u feel**  
 **casual displays of affection**  
 **late night deep talks (a rooftop setting optional)**  
 **"i know you better than i know myself"**  
 **saying i love you to each other thinking the other person means "only as a friend/sibling" when no they mean romantically**  
 **calling the other person "home"**  
 **laying their head on the other person's shoulder**  
 **forehead/cheek/temple/top of head kisses**  
 **super tight hugs where one or both "feels safe"**  
 **pet names/nicknames/referring to the other as "my (person's name)"**  
 **CASUAL DISPLAYS OF AFFECTION**  
 **missing the other person whenever they're not around more than best friends probs should**  
 **trusting each other so easily so effortlessly bc it's second nature**  
 **literally just? the fact that they're best friends?**  
 **"i've always loved you" / "i have loved you all my life"**  
 **basically pretending everything is casual and totally platonic when really they love each other so much i'm trash bye**

* * *

It feels like you've known him forever. His presence is on the edge or at the centre of every memory. When you'd met, the two of you had just been orphans of the Rebellion. Both of you had lost everything but decided almost immediately that you would have each others' backs, no matter what. Now, well… now, Cassian was home.

* * *

"Don't be a dumbass, I'm totally beating you. I'm on 11 and you're on 8, Cassian."

"I think you're just a sore loser, hotshot. I'm definitely past 15."

"My ASS you've hit 15. You're ok but you're not that good. I, of all people, know this."

"Oh _yes_ , because I try to shoot you _so_ often."

"Well, no, but I've been next to you to see you miss plenty of times."

Cassian looks to you, deadpan, and your response is an exaggerated wink. He smirks back at you before returning his gaze to the rifle sight. The troopers are sweeping towards you in waves but this feels comfortably familiar. You have been in situations just like this a hundred times before. Sure, it had started out with throwing rocks at patrols and running away until you were both breathless with laughter and fear. Some would think that defending a rebel outpost with assault blasters should feel different, but not you. It has always been you and Cassian, and as long as it stays that way, you will happily deal with whatever life throws at you.

"On your left!"

" _Shit_! Yeah, yeah, I got it."

A shot carries through the air.

"Told ya."

"You need to focus, Y/N. This isn't a game."

"Aw, don't be like that. You're just upset that my lead's growing."

* * *

 _Where is he?_

The X-wings have landed in formation and their pilots are streaming out to the adoring crowd awaiting.

 _It's fine. If something had happened to him, someone would have told me. I would be the first person to know if the mission went south. It's fine, it's fine, he's fine._

You hated it when Cassian went on missions without you. Yeah, you weren't _officially_ partners but everyone on the base knew the truth; with the two of you, when there was one the other was no more than 5 feet behind (while probably swearing like a smuggler). Naturally the rumours that tailed this fact were provocative to say the least, but you shrugged them off. You had known him all your life so _of course_ you loved him, just not like _that_ (at least that's what you tell yourself).

You catch an older woman by the upper arm, "Have you seen Andor yet?"

She narrows her eyes slightly, "Which one?"

Resisting the urge to roll your own at what seems like an obvious question, you say "Captain Andor?… Cassian Andor?… My Andor?"

She shrugs her shoulders in ignorance. You nod and continue on your way. You are not particularly tall, so scanning the throng is proving very difficult. Occasionally you stop to ask, but no one has seen him. The metal taste of worry is beginning to settle on your tongue when strong arms encircle you from behind. Anxiety drops from your shoulders.

"Miss me?"

"Of course not."

You spin to greet him. Cassian is smiling and the world is righting itself.

"Good to see you, Cass."

"Right back at you, hotshot."

He pulls you in and you let out a quiet sigh of relief. Your first and favourite safe place has always been Cassian. A hand on the small of your back, your fingers brushing his under the table, or a crushing embrace after time apart are enough to ground you; if you're honest, sometimes he's the only thing that can. After a couple of breaths, Cassian leans back and places a soft kiss on the top of your head. You smile into his chest before you draw back.

He places his arm around your waist, "So, what've you been doing with yourself while I was away?"

You both walk for a moment, and then you answer, "Oh nothing, you know. I can't function without you, I just spend _all_ my time pining. I sit on my bed and you know, _weep_."

"Is it possible to have a serious conversation with you?"

"You of all people should know the answer to that."

"So, no."

"Smart man. I knew I kept you around for some reason, Cass."

* * *

"Don't give me that bullshit, Y/L/N. What's wrong?"

"Get _the hell_ out of my face, Andor!"

"Something's wrong, now tell me what it is!"

"Fuck off, Cassian!"

Cassian snatches your wrist and tugs so that you're forced to stop walking. He takes your other hand and now you're properly caught. He has an iron grip and you can tell from his voice that he's not going to let this one go. He bends over a bit so he can look up at you despite the fact that you're avoiding him.

"Tell me, Y/N."

"Get lost!"

"Tell me."

"I said get lost!"

" _Tell me_."

His voice is uncharacteristically gentle. Your defences are melting and you are furious at yourself. You thought that you could bury this; you thought that you could cope (evidently not).

"I'm fine, Cass."

Well fuck. That was a weak attempt at lying, even for you. Cassian's hands move to cup your chin and his gaze itches on the skin of your face. Mutinous, you slowly raise your eyes.

"Y/N, I know you better than I know myself. Tell me the truth."

Tears suddenly prick at your eyes. You want to look away but you can't- everything feels too close. The words are waiting at the back of your mouth, but your tongue is heavy and not cooperating. It takes awhile for the grief to free your throat but Cassian just waits, his study of your face careful. Eventually, the words escape in a whisper.

"We lost the whole crew."

With a deep exhale, Cassian lets go. He rubs his eyes in sudden exhaustion. Then, without saying anything else, he pulls you into an embrace. The tears run down your cheeks onto his shoulder.

"All of them, Cass."

"Alright, Y/N, shh."

"Anderson, Halai, Dunji, Kawuh, Phelix."

"…I know."

" _They had families_."

You feel his body rock with a muffled sob. You answer by wrapping your hands around him and running your hands over his shoulder-blades. The sorrow is shared now, which you almost regret, but you realise that Cassian would have found out soon enough. Anyway, you are selfish in your grief; in times of struggle, you always want him with you. After all this was not the first time that you had shared loss, and you were sure it would not be the last either. So, unhurried but safe, you stand together in a quiet corridor, listening to the sound of each other's breathing.


	2. Chapter 2

Becoming a captain had been a genuine honour but all these extra responsibilities aren't really your thing. You are a strategist, a pilot, a fighter, a commander even, but you are not a bureaucrat or an administrator or a diplomat. The paperwork and endless stream of meetings are enough to make you want to hop on the next cargo ship and never look back. Cassian knows this (he's almost as bad) and he does his best to make it work. You share an office, so when you start pacing and muttering no one else is bothered. When it gets bad, Cassian drags you out to the runway to watch the ships take off. Once, on a particularly obstinate day, Cassian had literally thrown you over his shoulder before hauling you outside (this is a favourite story among your fellow captains).

Today you've set up camp in his quarters. It is organised chaos with holoscreens scattered everywhere and various signed papers strewn across the floor. The artificial lighting tells you that night has long since dawned but there is so much work to do. You are also _very_ comfortable with your legs resting in Cassian's lap. He is leaning on them as he types and absent-mindedly draws formless shapes into your skin between sentences. The caresses are familiar and comforting, and you can feel your eyelids growing heavy. Just for a moment, you rest your head against the couch where you're seated and regard Cassian as he works. Before you know it, your eyes are closed.

—

There are stormtroopers everywhere. You feel sick and terrified. You are unarmed and alone. Fire surrounds you in the distance and you can taste ash in your mouth; somewhere nearby a city is burning.

This is a twisted reworking of a memory that haunts you. You had been little more than a child when the metropolis of Hadä had been razed. Nineteen and new to the ranks of the Rebellion, you had not been prepared for what would await you.

You watch the inferno and feel its heat and run. There are savage voices and featureless faces everywhere you turn. Something is grabbing at your feet; it might be the sand, but you are afraid to look and see burning hands. You stumble and choke on your guilt. Your fear is already acting like lead weights. The flames are licking at your back and they feel like barbs snagging on your shirt. This is a hellscape and you have nowhere to go.

"Y/N!"

—

You launch forwards, nearly knocking Cassian over. His hands are on your shoulders, steadying you. You feel feverish, your skin is muggy, and your heart is absolutely frantic. There is wetness on your face that you wipe away before you can decide if it's sweat or tears.

"Are you alright?"

"Of course, Cass."

His words are tender, "Don't 'of course, Cass' me. You were shaking and crying out. What was that?"

"It was Hadä," his countenance shifts, "Hey, don't do that. I _am_ over it, I just- well, sometimes it resurfaces if I'm stressed. Really, it's fine."

Cassian's facial expression tells you that he's not convinced but you ignore him. You feel tired, and scared, and _Maker_ , your chest hurts. So, like a child, you reach out your arms towards him. Without question, Cassian's arms envelop you.

"I'm sorry," his words are muffled into your hair.

Cassian has never forgiven himself for what happened on Hadä. He had volunteered you both for the mission and then been given a sniper position, so you were alone in the field. He has vowed that would never happen again.

When you pull back, Cassian examines your face. He is apparently unhappy with what he sees as he brushes the hair from your face and then picks you up.

"Cass, what are you doing?"

"You need to sleep."

"Oh, so you're going to carry me to my room then?"

"Of course not."

Softly he drops you on his bed and then starts unlacing your boots. You are confused but don't fight him.

"We haven't done this since we were scared teenagers new to the Rebellion."

"So? You always say you slept better in those days."

"Well- Yeah, I… I guess."

"Do you want to borrow a shirt?"

You nod and he walks off to rummage through his drawers. You feel a sudden desperate need to say it.

"I love you."

He doesn't turn but you can hear the laugh in his voice, "I know. Love you too."

You know exactly what he means when he says it and it breaks your heart a little every time.

—

You and Cassian say 'I love you' to each other at the drop of a hat. Across breakfast in the mess hall, over coms on a mission, when your eyes are drooping after a long day, or passing each other in the corridors; these are all places that you've swapped the phrase. From you, it had always meant 'you are my family'. As you had grown up together and the angles of his face had changed, you had begun to speculate that it meant more. This was only for you, of course, as any romantic affection was one-sided, you were always sure.

Funnily enough it was the day that his fighter was shot down that you had realised you loved him in every sense of the word, in the very moment that you had collapsed on the floor of head command with your heart feeling like it was being cut out of your chest. When you had later walked off of the transport to collect the body and seen a battered but _very_ much alive Cassian awaiting, your whole world had stopped. The split second after is the happiest you think you've ever been in your life.

—

He throws you the shirt and you change as he disappears into the bathroom. You know Cassian likes to have his fighting arm free (old habits die hard), so you crawl to the left side of the bed. You consider the swirls in the ceiling over your head as they dance with the dimming lighting. Your line of sight dips slightly as Cassian clambers onto the bed and then you feel the warmth of his shoulder against yours.

"Comfortable?"

"Always," he replies.

It lulls back to silence but there is no tension or need to fill the quiet. You roll over onto your elbows so you can see him. A scar peaks out from his singlet and wraps out of sight down his back. His eyes are closed but Cassian's eyelashes flutter when you trace the lines of warped skin. The scar is old but you remember the day he had gotten it; in fact, you think that you could name the story of Cassian's every mark and blemish. Sometimes you wonder if you and Cassian are soulmates, not in the way you dream but as two halves of a whole. After all, you have never really had to live without him. Your hand suddenly stops.

"What is it?"

Your tone is light, "Nothing, Cass, just… You know you're not allow to die, right? Like ever?"

He laughs and opens one eye to ponder you, "Of course. I'm pretty sure you've threatened to kill me if I die enough times for the message to get through. Now come here."

You lay down with your head cushioned on his shoulder and waist pressed against his hip. His arm wraps around you and you try to remember the last time that you had felt this safe.

"So are you going to tell me what this is all about now? Hadä, and then that question. Something going on that I don't know about?"

You exhale, "No, there's nothing but… We're soldiers, Cass. There's always a threat waiting around the corner and sometimes that gets to me. And don't start worrying because it happens to everyone, it's practically part of the job."

Cassian doesn't say anything but you feel his breath catch just a little. It returns to normal quickly but you wonder what thought has crossed his mind.

"Are you sure that's it?"

There's something in his voice that you don't understand but desperately want to.

"C'mon, Cass… I've practically never lived a life without you. We met as young kids and we've been attached at the hip ever since. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without you. So, of course I worry about you. You should be the worried one if I didn't care after all this time."

Again he doesn't respond, so you assume he's satisfied with the answer. The tug of sleep is increasing with each reassuring beat of Cassian's heart, so it comes as no surprise to you as you eyes droop. You are in the swimming, peaceful twilight of sleep when he speaks again; to be honest, you are pretty sure that it's just a part of your dream.

"For me, there is no life without you, Y/N."


	3. Chapter 3

You relax in the sun with your shirt pulled up slightly to enjoy the warmth. Days off aren't rare in themselves but ones where you can actually relax only occur once in a millennia; you had got up when it was still dark just to get out before anyone could assign you a new task. The buzz of the base is just near enough that it stirs on the edge of earshot; bright laughs and starting engines occasionally ring through the trees, but in the noise you find comfort. You grew up in a megacity, shared a dorm until you were 18, and even after that you had shared a room with Cassian until you were both made captains. You are far more at ease in chaos than quiet.

"Oh look, I found the truant."

You don't open your eyes but wave a rude hand signal in the direction of Cassian's voice. There's a low acknowledgement, and then a rustle as he sits. You startle when something heavy settles on your abdomen. You go up on your elbows and regard your midsection where Cassian has nestled his head. You note that his hair is velvety against the skin of your stomach. You lay back, reach down and then slowly massage circles into his crown. Cassian breathes out and then takes one of your hands. He rubs your knuckles for awhile before resting his arm against your hip, still holding you.

"Where do we draw the line?"

"Sorry?" Cassian's question catches you off guard.

"I was think about what you said the other night. When is enough enough? When we've given everything to the cause?"

"Cass?"

"…Never mind. It's been a long week."

You sit up onto your elbows again. Cassian's voice is exhausted and his face is strained. There is something going on in the turmoil of his mind and what you can see from the scratched surface worries you.

"Are you leaving?"

Cassian responds immediately, "No, of course not. We've been in the fight since we were six years old. I couldn't face myself if I gave up now. But…"

"But?"

"Do we keep flying and fighting until we're killed?"

You have no answer. The thought has crossed your mind for mere moments a million times but you have never allowed yourself the indulgence of considering it. Not once have you ever doubted the importance of the Rebellion, yet the fact that you can't name one old rebel causes your stomach to churn. You can't fight forever (you know this) but you can't envision a future beyond the Rebellion either; maybe you have always subconsciously known that there wouldn't be one.

"When have we sacrificed enough to walk away? Or even to not be on the front lines anymore?"

"I don't know, Cass, but… I don't think people like us get the luxury of stopping. We live for the Rebellion until we use up all our chances… We fight until we can't."

He sits up and regards you with an expression that you can't read. The butterflies in your stomach shudder at the fact that, just for an instant, Cassian is unknowable to you.

"You're serious?"

You nod.

Anger is growing in his voice, not at you or anyone but fate, "How is that fair?!"

An inherent need to be calm and to end this conversation rests just below your heart, "Who ever said it was? We lay down our lives for the sake of those who will come after us. It's a good caus-"

"Why aren't our lives worth anything?"

"They're worth as much as anyone else's. It's just- Greatness requires sacrifice, I guess… Wait-"

"That sounds like Imperial rhetoric," his words bite.

"That's not what I meant Cass-"

There is rage dancing behind Cassian's eyes and you are taken aback. You wonder what this is really about and how long he has been carrying this without you noticing.

"They take the lives of thousands and call it a 'sacrifice' for the greater good. How are we better, Y/N?"

"The difference is we _give_ our lives voluntarily. We _give_ the sacrifice, we don't _take_. They _take_ so that they can be powerful. We _give_ so that our children can be free. We are better because we chose to be and fight every day to be worthy of that decision."

He takes a large breath but doesn't respond. Cassian looks away to focus on a far-off point but his body language is obstinate. You realise that this argument is symptomatic, rather than the cause, of his wrath. Irrationally, you feel like he's changing completely before your eyes and that you're losing him. This terrifies you more than you are willing to recognise; you want to believe that you are fiercely independent, but honestly you have never had to live a life without him.

"Cut the bullshit, Cassian. You've never questioned your role as a rebel. We've always known the odds, and we accepted that we might die before we even took the oath. So what is this really about!?"

Something in your tone is resentful and worried, and the whole statement is sharper than you intended. Fortunately, it has the effect of incurring the truth. Unfortunately, it also causes Cassian to snap.

"'What is this about?'?! I don't know if you view your life as some kind of currency to be spent by the generals in the name of change, but **I** care about what happens to you! I'm not going to stand by and watch you get killed, Y/N! I've realised recently that you are my entire world and I will not watch you die! Not today, not tomorrow, not ever because I love you!"

 _Oh._

"Y/N. I-"

There is silence now. The hubbub of the base is white noise and the whisper of the breeze playing with your hair is falling on deaf ears. The words themselves are ordinary, unexceptional even, but _his tone_. It is distraught and anguished and desperate and when he says 'I love you', he doesn't doesn't mean 'you are my family'. He means 'I love you'.

"Y/N," he sighs, "I- I love you."

Cassian's eyes are locked with your's. You both know that the other understands exactly what he means. There is no room to go back now. This is what has been bothering him and the source of his anger and all of his change.

"Y/N, I've always loved you and I don't know if that's enough, but it's all I can offer. I-"

You don't let him finish. The kiss is hard and there is teeth but _you are so thankful_ because **he loves you back**. Years of pining and dreams and wondering 'what if' and _he loves you back_.

Cassian's arms fly out in surprise for a moment before they curl under your arms and wrap around your shoulders. Your hands are hesitant against his face but you can feel his smile in your fingers and on your lips. Struggling, you pull back to look him in the eyes.

"Cassian Andor, I have loved you all my life. You are more than enough."


	4. Chapter 4

Check out this work's spinoff story _Dumbass_!

Summary: "Funnily enough it was the day that his fighter was shot down that you had realised you loved him in every sense of the word, in the very moment that you had collapsed on the floor of head command with your heart feeling like it was being cut out of your chest…"


End file.
